A Bronze Duo
by emmiewritings
Summary: What if Hermione was a year younger than Harry & Ron? What if she was in Ravenclaw, and so was her redhaired best friend?
1. An Odd Crowd

Discalimer: i do not own anything you may reconize. Nor do i own the first two chapters. I am continuing emzella's wonderfull story: A Bronze Duo. I have full permission from her, and in the first two chapters, i have only changed a few minor things.

* * *

Brett Stevens has downy grey hair, blue eyes and a snub nose. He wears a sky blue jacket, as is his uniform, and today is one of the days he looks forward to most in the year; September 1st. Not only did the 41 year old start working at Kings Cross Station 11 years ago this day, but this day in September always attracts curious looking passengers. Strange people in all ages, wearing oversized bathrobes wander around the station. Most of them are children and their parents, but every so often, there's a child alone. Brett wasn't quite sure where they were going, but they all seemed to be going to the same place. Occasionally, he could hear someone murmur something like 'muggle' or 'barrier' but these words made no sense to him whatsoever, so Brett chose to ignore them.

They always have the oddest luggage; big carts with trunks and animals on them. Even owls sometimes. The children carry sticks of wood, but always put them away hurriedly; their parents hissing something at them. There is also a crowd around Christmas and Easter, but they have much less people. Then there was the summer crowd, when everyone appeared again, looking sad and happy at the same time, chatting with their parents and other children, and sometimes wearing funny little pins.

Occasionally, someone would ask him nonsense questions. Brett supposed it was their idea of a practical joke, but it was quite old. Clueless parents or the children who were alone would ask "which way to platform 9 and ¾?" and "where is the train that leaves at 11 o'clock?" It drove him crazy. They were troublemakers; time wasters. There was no train that left at 11 o'clock and certainly no platform 9¾! They would turn away after hearing his reply, frowns on their faces.

Of course, then there were the ones who knew what they were doing. They were the one who didn't have the decency to wear normal clothing. They would walk up to a blank stretch of wall between platforms 9 and 10, and stare at it for a long time. If Brett looked away from them and looked back, they would be gone.

Rarest of all were the ones who walked straight up to that blank stretch of wall and started muttering at it, poking the wall with their sticks. Someone wearing the bathrobes would always end up helping them before 11. At 11:05 AM, the adults and smallest children would come back. A big crowd, just appearing out of nowhere. They always seemed to appear from thin air and disappear into thin air again; the parents holding the children. Some people would just walk out to their cars, but they were in the minority.

Brett would go home and tell his wife about the strange people, but she didn't know any more about it than he did. His children knew of a few friends of theirs who always left on September 1st, but they had lost contact with them.

So he was stuck watching the odd crowd on that day, sometimes answering questions, sometimes getting weird looks. It was a good opportunity for people-watching, but it made Brett feel uneasy somehow…as if these people were going to harm him in some way with their wooden twigs.

Today the most interesting thing was a small girl throwing a fit. She was one of the people who owned a twig, and was stabbing it fiercely against the blank stretch of wall, whilst muttering to herself. Her parents stood behind her, exchanging glances every so often, worried looks on their faces. The small girl's bushy brown hair was pulled out of her face, which was as red as his own daughter's hair. As Brett watched, the mother bent down to say something to her. The little girl seemed to say something back. Brett turn away as a young woman with black hair asked him for the way to platform seven.

* * *

Hermione Granger was having a fit at a blank stretch of wall. She had prodded it with her wand, spoken to it a bit, but to no prevail; it simply would not open. Perhaps the thing that angered her most was that no books had told about this. She had looked and looked, but all any book said about Kings Cross was that the Hogwarts Express left from there at 11 o'clock on September 1st to take students to Hogwarts from platform 9¾, which had to be the most annoying sentence Hermione had ever read.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was the school Hermione would be attending this year. It was said to be a large castle, with a forest, a lake, and grounds. You couldn't enter by disappearing and reappearing there (otherwise known as apparating) and there were protective wards, or shields, around it so no one could get it who wasn't supposed to be there. That left the train as the mode of transportation, as most students weren't very good on a broom. Then there were the classes themselves, which fascinated Hermione. Classes such as potions, charms, transfiguration and defense against the dark arts.

Hogwarts was even supposed to have ancient magic all around it.

Magic was the whole reason she was here in the first place. Almost a year ago, on Hermione's 11th birthday, she had received a letter from Hogwarts telling her there was such a thing as magic, and that she would be going to a school to learn it. Hermione had screamed, and rushed off to show her parents, who were a bit less excited then herself about the whole thing, the letter. The following week, the Granger family had gone out on a shopping expedition in an odd place called Diagon Alley, where she had bought all the supplies necessary for attending school. Hermione felt that her wand of vine wood with a dragon heartstring core was the best purchase, even after her family had bought all her text books.

And now she was here at Kings Cross Station, her brown eyes almost filling with tears because she couldn't open a passageway. Hermione was deeply disappointed in herself. She felt a little better when her mother knelt down beside her and told her that it was ok, that she wasn't expected to know anything, and that people her age probably had the same troubles she did. Hermione sniffed, nodding her head slightly.

She was slightly ashamed of her self for worrying her parents. How did they feel as they saw their only daughter, the one who sat on trees for hours and hours just reading, throwing a temper tantrum? Their brown-eyed girl, who always kept a leveled head? Hermione hoped she had not worried her parents _too _much; she knew they were already worried about her learning magic.

"I'm terribly sorry for worrying you," Hermione said miserably, hugging her mother.

"It's alright dear, I can imagine it must be frustrating," Mrs. Granger soothed, as Hermione took a couple of calming breaths, "let's wait for someone to come along, shall we?"

"I suppose so," Hermione said quietly, before her face brightened, "oh mum, that's brilliant! Why didn't I think of it?" Mrs. Granger only gave a small chuckle, shaking her head, as she saw a brown-haired boy come towards them.

* * *

Ginny Weasley was beyond nervous. The red head knew they were running late, but they had make it onto the train! Her father glanced at his watch and then at Mrs. Weasley.

"Molly, dear --"

Ginny groaned inwardly to herself. Mr. Weasley was always trying to get his wife to let him do wacky things; Ginny supposed it all had to do with his job. Arthur Weasley worked for the Ministry of Magic in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. From her visits there, Ginny knew it was a small, cramped space. Her father was always bringing home muggle (non-magical) junk, such as batteries and plugs, and playing with them. When she was very small, Ginny could not understand why muggles were kept secret from the wizarding community. Her parents had explained to her that muggles were often scared of witches and wizards. Ginny had learned to accept this, though she was still miffed that she could not play quidditch (the wizarding sport) in the village.

So life had gone on, with her father tinkering with old muggle junk and turning it into something useful, much to Mrs. Weasley discontent. Sometimes his projects turned into something wonderful, like the car she was riding in. The car was light blue, and magically enhanced so that it was larger; and therefore able to fit in everyone and everyone's luggage comfortably. Sometimes, however, the projects ended up badly. Ginny would never forget the biting blender…

_Mr. Weasley ran into the kitchen where his family was seated around the large dining table._

"_I've done it! It is simply wonderful; simply marvelous! A muggle blender!"_

_Molly Weasley pried herself from cutting up her daughter's breakfast to look at what her husband was carrying._

"_A blender?" she asked, her the confusion evident on her face, "What in Merlin's name is a blender Arthur?"_

"_It will chop up food and…well…well I don't know exactly," Mr. Weasley said, suddenly finding the floor very interesting, "I was...hoping we could maybe try it out."_

"_Well," Mrs.Weasley said, looking disdainfully at the blender, "its not dangerous is it?"_

"_No, no, its quite erm…tame," Arthur said, giving a weak smile._

_Molly shrugged. "Alright" she said, "If you're sure it's not dangerous, I guess its ok."_

_Mr. Weasley gave a smile. _What had happened after that was a blur to Ginny, she had been 4 at the time, and all she remembered now was that it had caused chaos, and Fred had to spend the night in St.Mungo's as a result. She supposed it was best that her mother had put her foot down this time.

Eventually, the car stopped at Kings Cross. With a flurry of excitement, Ginny exited the car, and took her cart out from her fathers grasp. Time flew by; she had 5 minutes to get onto the train.

"All right, Ginny you go first." Ginny barely heard her mother's voice telling her this; all she could do was stare at the barrier. She knew the trick as well as anyone else, just run straight though…Ginny took a steadying breath, and broke into a run, bracing for the crash that she knew would never come. She smiled as Platform 9¾ materialized in front of her.

Hermione sat down on her chair quietly. Her parents had just loaded her trunk into the otherwise empty compartment, and then had hurried off the train. It seemed to be an unwritten rule that parents should not be on the train. She took a peek at her watch.

10:59. Hermione could barely contain her excitement. In less than a minute, she would be on her way to Hogwarts, on her way to the rest of her life.

The noise from Platform 9¾ threatened to engulf Ginny, but she didn't let that bother her. Parents were already saying goodbye to their children; and the one's younger then 11 were already begging their parents to let them go too.

"Oh mum! Can't I go to?" Ginny hear a little girl whine. She smiled to herself, distinctly reminded of herself just last year.

"Oy! Gin! Hurry up!" Ginny spun around to see her brother Fred (Or was it George?) yelling at her.

"Carry my trunk Fred!" Ginny replied, batting her eyes sweetly.

"Fred? I'm George!"

"Like it matters!" Ginny fought back giggles as her brother helped her take her trunk onto the train, where she could carry it to a compartment. He ruffled her hair before setting off in the other direction, promising Ron would take care of her.

"Wait! George!" Ginny yelled after his back.

"Yes, m'lady?" George asked, spinning around.

"Where _is _Ron?"

"I don't know. It was Fred's problem!" Ginny rolled her eyes before setting off to find a compartment.

* * *

There was a knock on Hermione's compartment door. The train had just started moving, and already her parents were just ants who were left behind on the platform. Hermione stood, walking over to the door and opening it to find a red haired girl standing there.

"Hello," the girl said, giving a small smile. She heaved her trunk nearer to her body. "May I sit here?"

Hermione smiled back.

"Of course," she said, "come right on in." With their combined efforts, they got the girls trunk lifted and placed next to Hermione's.

"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way," Hermione stuck out her hand for the girl to shake, "and you are?"

"Ginny, Ginny Weasley," Ginny said, her hand moved about a little on the seat beside her, and her eyes opened wide.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, furrowing her brow.

"Oh, nothing," Ginny smiled as her hand came in contact with her wand, "I thought Fred or George had taken my wand."

"Who?"

"Just some of my brothers, I have six of them, but Fred and George are the real troublemakers." Ginny said, shrugging.

The rest of the morning was spent telling about their families, and what their everyday life was like. Eventually, the lunch trolley came and Ginny pulled out a sandwich instead of buying anything.

"What kind of sandwich is that?" Hermione asked, peering up over a box of Chocolate Frogs.

"Corned beef," Ginny said, pulling a face, "no one in my family really likes it though, Ron least of-" she stopped, looking horrified.

"What?" Hermione asked, "corned beef cannot be that bad."

"No, no, it's not that," Ginny was as white as a sheet. "I just have no idea where Harry and Ron are."

Hermione bit her lip. "Don't worry," she said consolingly, putting an arm around the red-haired girl, "I'll go ask people if they've seen them, you stay here. Read a book or something."

Ginny just nodded, mindlessly taking on of Hermione's books. Her eyes began moving roboticly, though the book was upside-down.

* * *

"Have you seen two boys named Harry and Ron? A girl named Ginny has lost them." 


	2. First Impressions and Talking Hats

Disclaimer: see chapter one.

* * *

"I'm sorry Ginny." Hermione said, shaking her head sadly. She had spent the last few minutes looking for Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, but no one had seen them. The red head's face wasn't white anymore, but it hadn't regained all of its color. 

"It's ok," Ginny attempted a smile, "I'm sure they're fine."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I hope they aren't like the twins," she said, shaking her head sadly.

Ginny let out a small laugh, but froze as a voice flowed over the Hogwarts express, telling them they would be arriving at Hogwarts shortly.

Hermione paled.

"I guess we better get our robes on," she said quietly. Ginny nodded tensely. The girls had spent the last few hours talking, but neither had said how nervous they were. Hermione was absolutely terrified that she wouldn't know enough spells, and Ginny was confident her life would end if she were in any house but Gryffindor.

"The worst thing is," Ginny had said earlier, "is that all of my family knows how the sorting goes. Bill, Charlie, Percy and Ron don't say its so bad, but Fred and George keep talking about trolls and giant spiders." Hermione had shrugged.

"I've read all about trolls," she had confided in Ginny, "I'm sure we could handle them. Besides, Dumbledore wouldn't let that happen." Ginny had gave a small smile.

Hermione didn't look so confident as she exited the train, Ginny right behind her. Her forehead was creased as she looked around wildly for something.

"What's the ma-" Ginny began to say, but was cut off by a loud voice.

"Fir's years!" a booming voice called out. Ginny and Hermione turned around and were face to face with an extremely large man. Hermione gasped.

"What?" Ginny asked as they followed the large man over to a lake.

"He must be a giant," Hermione said, her face rather pale "or at least half."

Ginny shrugged. "I think he's Hagrid; the gamekeeper. My brothers told me about him." She explained in answer to Hermione's disbelieving look.

"But they are supposed to be really dangerous!" Hermione cried.

Ginny shook her head. "Not Hagrid," she said, "my brothers are friends with him. And Dumbledore trusts him, doesn't he?"

Hermione sighed. "I guess so," she said as she and Ginny clambered into a boat. There were already two other first years in the boat; a tall girl with black hair who kept glaring at Hagrid, and a rather pale boy with sparkling blue eyes. The girl had a rather nasty expression on her faces and kept exchanging glances with people a few boats over.

"Well, I think we found out new best friends," Ginny whispered in Hermione's ear. Hermione chuckled.

"What's so funny?" The girl asked, staring at Ginny, "no, wait. Don't answer that. Anything you say probably isn't worth repeating."

Hermione glared at her. Ginny noticed that her knuckles were white around her wand.

"Don't worry about it," she said in a low voice to Hermione, "she's just nasty. Pure blood probably."

"Pure blood?" Hermione asked, keeping her hand on her wand but allowing her gaze to travel to Hagrid.

"No muggle blood in them. They are known for calling anyone with muggle parentage scum or," she shivered, "mud-bloods. It's really dirty. But some old wizarding families judge everything on blood. She knows me because the Weasley's are known for being friends with muggleborns, or blood traitors. I take it back about them being our best friends, they seem rather vicious."

* * *

Around the next corner, they got their first view of Hogwarts. It was a magnificent site, with all the towers and levels. There were carriages pulling up to magnificent oak doors where student got out, talking animatedly. A few pointed at the small fleet of boats, but most didn't give it a second glance. The sound of a splash caught Hermione's attention. 

"Oh my goodness!"

"What?" Ginny's head whipped around, her red hair smacking the girl on the opposite end of the boat with her hair.

"Watch it!" the girl shrieked, rubbing her face fervently with her hand. Ginny paid her no mind however.

A tiny boy with mousy hair was teetering over the edge of the boat. He was unbalanced and the people in his boat seemed to have no idea what to do. Ginny took a deep breath.

"Lean back!" she shouted. The boy did as told, falling into the awaiting arms of his boat mates.

The first years cheered loudly, save a few. Ginny blushed, Hermione could see that her face was as red as her hair in the moonlight.

"Lucky you were there," the boy with blue eyes said wisely.

Not much later, they had arrived at Hogwarts. Hermione and Ginny stepped out of the boats gingerly, Ginny rather unsteadily. Hermione gripped her friend's arm.

"Seasick?" she asked, a look of concern on her face.

Ginny nodded. "And nervous." She confessed, her voice a bit shaky.

Hermione gave her a comforting smile. She looked like she was about to say something but held back as the doors opened.

A tall woman was holding the door open, letting the first years past her. Ginny could tell by looking at her that she would be strict, and immediately vowed to get on her good side. Not a hair on the woman's head was out of place, though you couldn't see much because of a forest green hat covering her head.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she said. Her voice was as crisp as her appearance. "Any difficulties?"

"Someone almost fell into the lake Professor," Hagrid said, and Ginny suddenly felt a large hand on her back. "But this one here took care of it."

Ginny blushed. "It was nothing," she mumbled quietly.

"Another Weasley?" Professor McGonagall asked, surveying Ginny. "Well Miss Weasley, I do hope you do not choose to follow in the footsteps of your elder brothers." She chuckled. Ginny gave a weak smile.

"No Professor," she promised, "I won't."

Professor McGonagall nodded curtly before turning to the other first years.

"Welcome to Hogwarts school," she began, but Ginny tuned out the rest. Her head was spinning.

* * *

The first years walked into the Great hall quietly, but in awe. Most were staring at the ceiling, and one could make out Hermione Granger telling her peers that it was bewitched to do that. They stood in front of all the other students, nervous expressions forming on their faces. Some positively jumped when the Sorting Hat began to sing, but nearly all looked relieved after the song had finished. Ginny Weasley herself had mentally slapped herself for being so silly. 

"We just have to try on a hat!" she exclaimed to Hermoine. She spotted Fred and George at the Gryffindor table and sent then a rude hang gesture. They played innocent, pointing at themselves and mouthing _what did we do?_ Ginny shot them the patented glare she had inherited from her mother, and was pleased to see they dropped the act.

* * *

Hermoine was alarmed when Professor McGonagall started calling out the F's. They were to be called up in alphabetical order, and she knew she would be next. As Fields, Elisha was declared at Ravenclaw, she felt Ginny's hand on her shoulder. 

"Good luck," she whispered.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione took a deep breath, and willed her feet to move. The walk between where Ginny was standing and where the sorting hat was seemed very long to Hermione, and she almost tripped over her feet. She could feel many of eyes on her, watching her every move.

At last, she reached the stool. She sat on it, making sure the hat was on her head. It was large, coming down past her eyes. Vaguely, she wondered what would happen when she heard a small voice speaking right into her ear.

"Ah, hello Miss Granger," it said sweetly, "and how are you this fine evening?"

For a moment, Hermione considered screaming out that the hat was talking to her. Then she considered the fact that the hat knew her name. She decided against screaming.

"Very well, and you?" she replied. She found it was easier to think the thoughts than to say them aloud.

"Miss Granger, I am but the deceased Godric's hat. I cannot feel," the small voice said.

"Of course. My apologies," Hermione said quietly.

The small voice chuckled.

"I suppose you would like to know what house you are going to be in?" the Sorting Hat asked.

Mentally, Hermione nodded. "Anything but Slytherin," she said firmly.

"Very well then Miss Granger," the small voice said, "I hope you will be happy in RAVENCLAW!" The last word had been projected so that the entire hall could hear.

As Hermione took the hat of her head, she could hear loud clapping from the Ravenclaw table. She placed the hat on the stool and raced off to find a seat. Hermione ended up sitting near the black haired girl that had been sorted before her. Before she had the chance to say hello, several of the older students shook her hand, giving her smiles. She had just enough time to grin back before another student was called up to be sorted. Hermione quickly scanned the line of remaining first years, finding Ginny quickly. Her friend gave her a broad smile and thumbs up.

* * *

The second Ginny put her thumb down; she let a frown slip onto her face. Surely, she would be separated from Hermione. Every last Weasley had been in Gryffindor. For all she knew, she could be an _heir _on Gryffindor. Just as well, Ron was still missing. She had spent a few moments letting her eyes roam around the hall, and that was something certain. She hoped beyond hope that he and Harry weren't doing anything stupid. 

If she was completely honest with herself, she would like to be in any house but Slytherin. Of course, if she was in anything but Gryffindor, her family would surely disown her, but Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff wouldn't be so terrible in Ginny's opinion.

She was so lost in thought that when her name was called, she nearly jumped a mile.

Every eye was on her as she walked up to the platform with the stool. Ginny found the staring rather annoying and felt as though she would like to hex everyone watching her, even though she knew no hexes.

The walk to the stool took almost no time at all, and she slipped it onto her head and over her eyes in an instant.

"Ah, another Weasley," a small voice in her ear said. It sounded amused. Ginny didn't reply, her eyes were closed tight, and she was chanting _Slytherin's are losers _in her mind.

"Slytherin's are losers ay?" the voice asked. It sounded amused in Ginny's opinion; almost as if it was laughing at her. "Maybe we ought to put you in Slytherin, teach you otherwise. No? Alright then…RAVENCLAW!"

Ginny gasped. The blood was draining from her face as she took the hat off, and the last thing she saw before she blacked out was Hermione grinning and cheering at the Ravenclaw table while each and every one of her brothers looked confused.


	3. Silent Conversations and Meetings

Disclaimer: Ahh, my first chapter (:

A/N: its snowing! Snowing! I am unbelievably excited. Snowing!

**Chapter Three, Silent Conversations and Meetings**

When Ginny awoke, she was surrounded by a team of redheads. Of course, they weren't really a team, and not all of them redheads, but it was close enough for her.

"Ginny!" cried a voice, and Ginny looked to see that only non red-head, Hermione, hugging her.

"I was ever so worried! I was only allowed to come after the sorting had ended!"

"Ever so!" George mouthed, imitating Hermione. Ginny glared, before turning to her friend.

"It's alright Hermione," she said, giving Hermione a small hug.

Percy, the eldest Weasley at Hogwarts, cleared his throat.

"Congratulations, Ginny," He said, smiling at his sister. The youngest redhead blushed.

"I-I thought you would be mad," she said quietly, as Hermione straightened up.

"Rubbish. Ravenclaw was brilliant," Fred said, giving her an odd look. It turned into a grin when he continued with "Of course, Gryffindor was loads better but…"he spread his hands in a 'what can you do' gesture.

Ginny rolled her eyes but said nothing.

"Actually, Fred has a point," Hermione said reasonably, "wasn't Gryffindor the first headmaster?"

"No, that was Slytherin," Percy said, shaking his head at the first years ignorance.

"No, no, I'm sure it was Gryffindor." Hermione stated, adjusting her position on the bed.

"Wait, where am I?" Ginny asked, surveying her surroundings for the first time. It was a large, clean room. Everything from the numerous cots to the ceilings was a snowy white color. A small office was in the center, and a fireplace on the wall.

"Hospital Wing," Fred answered promptly, "welcome!"

Ginny laughed along with the others, plastering a fake smile on her face as she made a small prayer that she wouldn't be back here any time soon.

The noise of a door opening loudly sounded and all head turned to the doors.

"GINNY!" Ron had burst through the door, with Harry Potter trailing sheepishly behind him. Ron was now standing at the bed, demanding to know what had happened, and if so help him it had been Fred and George, he would be writing home. "Gin, what happened? What did you do to her? Is that Ravenclaw's symbol?" Ron's face had seemed to turn purple with rage at this new detail he had not been informed of, and sitting next to Ginny, Hermione's eyebrows were furrowing, her hands clenched into fists.

"And what, she asked, turning to him in a rage, "is so wrong with Ravenclaw? The rest of your brothers don't have any problem with it! Ginny has been worried sick about you! Did you consider it was her worry over where you happened to be that caused her to be here? That maybe you are the cause of this? But no, you stayed away, worrying her to the Hospital Wing! Or maybe it wasn't you, you wouldn't know, would you? You just come barging in and start yelling, what if bad noises were bad for her condition? Are you even sorry?"

"I-i-who says…" But Ron trailed off as Hermione fixed him with a glare, leaving his mouth wide open. George's mouth was also open, as he looked between Hermione and his youngest brother.

"Are you channeling my mother's spirit?" he asked her, eyebrows raised farther than Ron's.

Hermione faced George. "Interruptions are not appreciated, Mr.Weasley." she said, in a falsely sweet voice. George paled.

"You're wrong George," Fred said, struggling to hide his smile, "she's channeling McGonagall."

Hermione glared at Fred for a fleeting moment before turning back to Ron.

"Would you like a do-over?" she asked sweetly.

---------

Meanwhile, Ginny was enjoying a skill she had picked up at age eight: lip reading. Lip reading was essential in the Weasley family if you wanted to know what Fred and George were up too, or what your parent's were talking about. Ginny found lip talking (as she called it ) with Harry much easier than speaking with him, a skill she had not yet mastered.

"Who is she?" Harry mouthed, pointing at the brunette, who was currently shouting at Ron about something not important.

"Hermione," Ginny mouthed back, as in answer to his questioning look, she continued with 'New friend. Met her on the train." He smiled in understanding, and Ginny recalled Ron's first letter home, where he stated he had met a boy his age on the train. She now realized that this must have been Harry, and resisted smiling herself.

"Ravenclaw?" he mouthed, eyes wide. She grinned.

"Had to be different somehow," she shrugged innocently as he mouthed. Harry laughed silently. Ginny watched as his gaze shifted to Hermione, and Ginny also turned to her friend, ignoring a splash of annoyance as the conversation ended.

----------

"I said, do you want a do-over?" Hermoine was very annoyed at this red haired boy. She found him to be impatient, incompetent, and to thick to answer a simple question. She supposed that this was Ginny's youngest brother, Ron. Her logic was foolproof.

-She had met Percy, George and Fred

-Ginny said that Charlie was covered in burns

-Bill was supposed to be charming.

Well, there were no burns that she could see and Hermione had never met anyone less charming than the boy standing before her. That left him to be Ron, the rat-owning, quiddich-obsessed boy who so often put his foot in his mouth.

And now he was stuttering again. First getting himself lost, then screaming about Ravenclaw, and now studying. She flicked his ear impatiently, losing the battle to master her temper.

She just couldn't see how this buffoon was related to Ginny.

------

"I'm sorry Ginny, sorry for worrying you, and sorry for screaming. How are you feeling? Congratulations on Ravenclaw!

--------

A/N: sorry bout the shortness folks, next chapter should be up soon and longer. Dorm mates! Happy holidays! Do you like it? Hate it? Please tell!


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